I stare down into my wine glass. The dark, purple liquid staying perfectly still and I'm only amazed by my steady hands for a moment before I'm interrupted, my wife's brother coming to sit beside me on the small sofa, the cushions sinking and bringing us closer together. I look towards him and he regards me silently with a gaze almost as steady as my pulse. I shift, trying to move away, feeling slightly uncomfortable under such scrutiny but it doesn't really work. I play it off like I'm just adjusting myself and hide how this situation is making me feel. With a long sip of my wine, I cross my legs easily, leaning into the backrest and appearing to anyone watching, completely at ease.
"Hello Roxas, having a good time?" I ask as I face him, though I'd really like to ask what he wants and why he's staring at me. He stays quiet even after I address him, and finally, when I'm convinced he's lost his mind and is going to stab me in the throat with one of his mother's fancy dinner knives, he sighs.
"I want you to come to my room," his voice is low, and there's a trace of desire, barely tinting the end of his sentence but that can't be right. I have to blink once, really hard to clear my head. This is, after all, my wife's youngest sibling. There must be some sort of explanation to his invitation. This boy is not staring at me with unhindered want. I tell myself it's the wine, this poison has been the downfall of many but I think back to a few weeks ago and my stomach gives a nervous lurch.
It all started when I had been left alone with the blonde boy for a few hours, for the first time in our lives. It could have been just me, I had definitely had a few wine glasses that night too, but something in the way he spoke to me seemed off and when he touched my lap after dinner, it was definitely too out of character to be on purpose or I had supposed so at the time.
You see, Roxas is the type who rarely says a word, in fact, after years of knowing him and his family, I've only heard him say something sparingly, and the words weren't even directed at me. For as long as I've been his sister's man, it would have seemed like to him, I didn't exist. This would be another reason why I'm a little taken aback by the invitation into his bedroom.
I swirl the wine around in my cup a few times, straining to seem relaxed before looking back towards him and I find he's still watching me, his gaze unwavering like a cat calculating the distance between it and its prey before pouncing. "I have to show you something..." this last part is tacked on, as if he needs to convince me it'll be alright, as if I'm afraid of him or something.
I have no idea why there is a nervous twist in my gut, or why my usually steady hands tremble the slightest bit. I'm a married man, who has nothing to be anxious about. Especially when my wife's baby brother asks me into his room. Even so, it's hard to swallow and my tongue feels swollen and much too large for my mouth. He doesn't give me time to reply, instead he stands up, adjusts his black dress pants, and if it's on purpose or not, I don't know, but as he walks by the tips of his fingers brush my shoulder.
My eyes squeeze shut and my fingers curl around the thin stem of the cup, the ghost of his touch tingling against my skin. I fear for a fraction of a second that I'll snap the glass and spill the wine, staining my devil of a mother-in-law's light gray carpet but I focus all my energy to loosen my grip. What in God's name has gotten into you, Axel? I ask myself over and over, and there is an answer to my question, one I don't even want to summon to my conscious thought. I don't want to think of the possibility of being attracted to my wife's brother, who is a full 10 years younger than I am.
When I have myself collected and I know I won't suddenly jump up and scream while tugging my hair from the roots, I look around the room and see Larxene, laughing loudly, clinging onto the arm of her childhood friend, Marluxia. I'd question their closeness, if I wasn't so damn sure he swung the complete opposite way and even if he were straight, I don't think I'd give a damn.
Larxene. My wife...the woman I vowed to spend the rest of my life with, but after just 4 years I'm sick of seeing her face every morning. I'm sick of smelling her many different perfumes. I'm sick of listening to her talk on the phone for hours, or hearing her nagging voice yelling at me. I'm just so sick of her.
In my inspection of the room, I spot Roxas, the small blonde pressed against the wall, all the way across from me. I gulp, noticing he's standing by the hallway entrance, a tiny, secretive smirk on his delicate features as he watches me, like he's just been waiting for my eyes to meet his. His pink tongue pokes out between his plump lips and I watch closely from my spot, rooted on the cushion, as he moistens them, then runs the tip of his tongue along the bottom of his top teeth, the muscle tracing each one carefully.
What is it about this boy that makes it impossible to tear my eyes away from him? What is it that makes me want to feel every inch of his skin? I really have no clue and I assure you if I did know, I'd stop with this nonsense at once. But I don't know, and all that is clear is the want I feel for him. The want to see him, feel him, trapped beneath me, dripping sweat and crazed with lust. It's moments such as these, that I'm grateful no one else can hear my thoughts or know they exist. It's bad enough I have to live with them.
With the swiftness of an assassin and the grace of a dancer, Roxas slips away from the crowd and disappears into the darkness. I stare hard into the seemingly pitch black hallway, trying to watch his shape as he walks away and I find myself standing up, though I know I shouldn't. The rest of my wine is chugged quickly, the familiar lightheadedness makes me sway slightly as I lower my empty glass onto the coffee table and my legs begin to pull me towards the hallway with no directions from me.
I hear the noise of the party all around me, the laughter and music drowning out my racing heart and unsteady steps. I'm almost sure I'm going to be caught, that someone is going to spot me trying to head towards the bedrooms and stop me but no one does. I'm engulfed in the dark and I look back, expecting someone to appear and drag me away but no one does. The party goes on, no one noticing both Roxas and me missing from the event.
After a long enough time to be sure I wasn't followed, I turn and walk to the door I know leads to Roxas' bedroom. My hand, which was so steady a few moments ago, now seems to be humming with the speed in which it's trembling. It smacks into the knob, my wedding ring clinking against the metal and I feel my insides churn painfully. The door clicks open and I realize I've turned the knob and am pushing my way in when it's too late to turn back.
It's dark and cool, the window open all the way back, letting moon light pour in and I see Roxas, perched on the end of his bed, waiting patiently, for me. My mouth numbs as he starts unbuttoning his dress shirt, his eyes remaining in contact with mine. I feel like slapping myself when he gets to the third button, his eyes slowly lowering to watch his hands undress himself and that's when I realize I have to stop this.
"Roxas, stop!" My hands shoot out, grabbing his and stilling them. I've gotten really close to him and I don't remember when I got here...though something tells me I've been standing at the edge of his bed since I walked in. He drags his eyes up towards my face almost sleepily, and I stare into the blue depths. There is want in them, and I'm not stupid enough to deny it. My skin suddenly feels the warmth coming from his body, such a contrast to his freezing room and it's so inviting. My body automatically leans towards him, the chill in the room touching my bones. I can already feel myself touching his bare chest and sucking in all his heat. I can feel the way he'd arch into me and beg for more, the cold air nipping at our flesh though we'd barely notice.
My hands start to tremble once again and I don't know how I manage to even form coherent thoughts with the way he's watching me. "What are you doing boy?" I spit out, having to remind myself to stay focused, though it's so hard.
"I said I wanted to show you something," the smile that curls his lips makes my legs go weak, and I blink hard trying to snap myself out of it. I let go of him quickly, and do up two buttons before he slaps my hands away and undoes all the buttons again. He stands then, and this is when I realize I'm still leaning towards him.
I feel sick, again the knowledge of this god damned attraction wracks my bones and I feel it on every inch of my skin when he grabs the front of my shirt. Why can't I deny it? Am I really so weak, that I can't just pull myself away and resist? I know I'm stronger than him, I could easily push him away but I don't.
"I...I can't," I choke out when he pulls me down, his lips stopping just a few centimeters away. I feel him hesitate, almost as if he is going to ignore my protest and kiss me anyway, but he doesn't. His grip on my shirt tightens before he releases me and looks towards me through his thick eyelashes.
"Why not?" His voice is low and hard to hear, but my senses seem heightened somehow, his voice ringing clear over the party noise. My tongue is pinned to the bottom of my mouth, making it impossible to answer him. All the effort trying to move it, is completely useless. I know the answer to his question, it's obvious, but for some reason, I struggle to voice it. It's because I'm married to his sister. Because I'm ten years his senior...because...because I'm interested in women and this is all so wrong. Or perhaps those are all the reasons that brought me here, the things that make this all so appealing.
I somehow find it in myself to force some words past my teeth, "I'm Larxene's husband, and in-case you've forgotten, she's your sister." I step back, putting more distance between us and he smirks, looking me up and down before crossing his arms over his chest. I don't like the expression, because he seems to see right through me, all the way to the aching desire, burning right in the center of my gut like I've swallowed a ball of fire.
"Then why did you come?" The question stumps me, and I stop before I can answer because I have nothing to say. "If that matters to you, why are you in my bedroom?" My tongue flaps around inside my mouth as the spit slowly dries up, the flavor of the wine making me feel sick as it lingers over every taste bud. I have to even out my breathing and still I struggle to speak.
"I don't know." I say, partially honest and it makes him laugh...a lot. I grit my teeth as he keeps laughing at me and before I can stop myself, I'm gripping his bicep and yanking him towards me, my eyes locking with his, his laughter dying right away. "Stop this shit Roxas, before I tell your mother what you're doing." My warning doesn't have the desired effect on him, and when he starts chuckling again, anger flares up in my veins. This fucking brat is going to ruin me.
"Oh, that's gold!" He says between guffaws, tossing his head back to laugh harder and I quickly cover his mouth, realizing he's being way too loud. His eyes look down at my hand, sealed over his mouth and I can feel him smirk against my skin, before he licks my palm slowly. It sends shivers down my spine and I growl, the anger still present as I press my hand against his lips harder.
"I'm serious, stop it!"
He rips his arm away from me, slapping my hand from his mouth roughly and I watch a fine, blonde eyebrow arch in skepticism. "And what makes you think she's going to believe you, of all people?" He smiles widely, knowing he's won our argument. My mother-in-law would probably think I was the one coming on to her youngest child and then word would spread to everyone I know. My life would crumble to pieces. "I know you want me Axel...I've seen you watching me." He grabs my shaking hand and brings it up to his lush mouth, tenderly kissing the tips of my fingers and I let him.
"Besides, why should you be faithful to Larxene, when she's fucking every man in her phonebook?" That tiny, pink tongue peeks out of his mouth again and he softly licks the length of my finger before dragging my hand down his chest and sliding it into the slit of his dress shirt.
My god, he feels amazing. His skin is warm and soft to the touch, everything I had imagined it would be and more. My hand wants to continue on its own, and I have no control over it as it lightly brushes against one of his nipples. He gasps hotly and bites his bottom lip, watching me with hungry eyes making the want in me increase tenfold. I realize what I'm doing when I feel his heart, beating steadily and I tug my hand away quickly, my entire body now fighting against hard tremors. He snickers, the smirk spreading across his face like an infection and I shut my eyes tight.
I want him so badly.
I can't deny it.
"Shut up!" I say, trying to center myself and ignore him. "You don't know a thing about my marriage. Now stop this before you get us both in trouble." Somehow I have a feeling he knows a lot more than I think he does, but I can't let myself believe him. He's saying all this to get to my head and I won't let him control me anymore than he already has. I turn to leave his room, not understanding why in the hell I've stayed so long and I hear him sit on his bed. If I was a stronger man, I'd leave right now and this would all end here but no, I have to turn around and look at him one last time, bathed in the pale moonlight.
I feel my resolve crumble and he gets up, almost as if he's smelt the defeat and rushes towards me, our bodies crashing harshly, his lips attacking mine with something akin to desperation. I wrap my arms around his waist, pulling him closer, possessively, right against my chest. He groans into my mouth, his tongue prying my lips apart and tasting the wine and desire. His small hands are all over me, opening my dress shirt and sliding inside, his cold fingers raise goosebumps as he feels around, carefully filed nails digging into my skin. The blonde touches more and more of me, and he finally makes his way to the fork in my dress pants, my cock pressing against the material, begging to be let out. My body shudders as he gives me a rough squeeze, my legs tremble, almost losing all their strength.
I want this so badly, it was almost idiotic to think I could be stronger than this. I can feel it in every fiber of my being. Every molecule, every skin cell, every last piece of me is yearning for this contact.
Roxas seems like he's been waiting just as long, the feeling of my length in his hand makes him moan. His thin fingers trace its outline, gently feeling my shape and relishing in the heat I'm radiating. I swallow every excited sound from his mouth and my own hands move to his bottom, cupping it firmly before I lift him, the boy jumping up and wrapping his legs around me easily. This causes us to slightly lose balance and I slam him into the wall. The pictures and the awards on his shelf rattle and shift, before everything is quiet once again, and the only sound is of our joined, ragged breaths.
I press my hard manhood into his ass and feel the way his body shudders, his fingers curling into the material of my blazer. The sensation makes me pull away from the kiss, rubbing against him a little more forcefully than before. The blonde's body arches off the wall and he grinds his ass into me. It's when he moans, my mouth latched onto his neck, sucking viciously on his pulse and I feel myself twitch inside my dress pants, that I realize how fucking reckless this is. No matter how much I've yearned for this, no matter how insane he's driving me, we cannot do this. But I want to, so badly.
I rip myself away from him and he seems shocked as he stumbles back down onto the floor. My need aches, my pants and underwear brushing against it almost teasingly and my clouded brain makes me reconsider running out of the room but I can't stay a second longer. The sight of Roxas, disheveled and panting, his eyes begging me for more is almost enough to convince me that this is right. The heavy, platinum wedding band on my finger however, grounds me to reality.
I rush out of the room and manage to make it into the bathroom without being spotted. My heart is thrashing around wildly inside of my chest and I swear I can see myself throbbing through the thin dress pants. I have never in all my life been so turned on, never have I wanted to have sex with anyone as badly as I did back in that boy's room. That boy, who is my wife's youngest brother. That 19 year old boy.
A knock on the door terrifies me, and I fly away from the wall, my eyes wide and filled with fear before I remember I'm locked in here safely. "Occupado," I call out, my voice somehow managing to stay perfectly even while the rest of me practically convulses. The person on the other side tries to open the door and before I have time to freak out, my wife speaks from the other side.
"Hurry the hell up Axel, we're going home."
While this news usually over joys me, there's fear coiling in the pit of my stomach at the thought of having to face my wife after sucking face with her brother.
A/N: Hello everyone, it is I, Sharmander!
How I've missed all of yooou! So much has happened while I've been away! I started a new job, met my soulmate and became a God-mother!
I've been working on my stories when I've had the time, and I have some bits and pieces of stuff that'll be ready to go soon!
All my stories are still in the works, so never fear, nothing is forgotten.
I know it's been forever, and many of you are waiting for other stories to be updated, but I haven't been able to get this idea out of my head!
I'll get around to the other ones, and I'm so sorry for making you wait even longer but hey, on the bright side...I now have internet!
Yes, I have full access to the internet! Updates will be much sooner than they have been!
Thank you all so much for your patience, seriously guys, you are all so amazing.